


Twice Bitten

by oiyukis



Series: Titan Press [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sekaiichi Hatsukoi, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiyukis/pseuds/oiyukis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second (because, to be honest, neither of them really mind the first) time they meet - thankfully - is terrible judge on how their relationship will progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twice Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> I did say it had the possibility of becoming an AU. This is for my lovely waifu again, the Lady T, who gifted me with over 100 issues of comics and deserves to be showered in love and kisses. Since I cannot do that, as we are separated, this will have to suffice
> 
> [ Updated AU Notes](http://thelittlestcrane.tumblr.com/post/57302124864/titan-press-is-a-sekaiichi-hatsukoi-au-there-is)

Erwin has only been editor-in-chief for one year when the company reassigns their printing and sales group. It’s a bit disappointing, to be honest. He’s grown used to working with the head of Division M – Erwin can actually, at this point, call him a friend considering they go out for drinks together every Tuesday night – as have the editors under his watch.

 

As unprofessional as it is, when Division L becomes their new partner, Erwin decides he is not going to go out of his way to be friendly. Division M had printed their work for over a year – since _before_ he’d become editor-in-chief – and they knew _how_ he worked _and_ how to work with him. Division L – whoever they were – would not.

 

Therefore, the first time there’s a blip in the process, he sends Hanji to deal with it. The exuberant editor can win over just about everyone, so he doesn’t see a problem in not addressing it himself. If they hadn’t come directly to him it can’t be that dire, and he has his own work to worry about as it is, with the deadline of their collective artists fast approaching and still missing over half the final drafts.

 

Hanji returns a few hours later in a mix of frustration and periodic muffled squealing.

 

Erwin glances up from his work, twirling the pen between his fingers only once, “Did you straighten out the problem?”

 

“Hm?” Hanji tilts her head, “Oh, yeah. It was nothing big. One of Petra’s dialogue boxes was off-center, so they just asked me if I could center it before they ran copies.”

 

Petra glances up at the sound of her name, setting down her pen and tuning in to the conversation. “What were they like?”

 

Hanji taps her chin, “Well, I spent a little time talking to each of them. We _will_ be working closely, after all.” She leans forward on her desk, squinting in recollection, “Erd, Auruo, and Günther seem fine. I only spoke to them for a few minutes, though, because their boss-” She breaks to cough through a chuckle “-came in.”

 

Erwin sits straight, folding his arms.

 

“Their boss is…” Hanji grins, “Well. You’ll have to meet him yourself. He’s… _indescribable_.”

 

“That sounds interesting,” Petra sits back in her chair, “Let’s bring them lunch. As an introductory gift.”

 

“Yeah,” Hanji nods, “That sounds like a good idea. Tomorrow?”

 

“Sure,” Petra smiles, “I have to swing by later to check on something. I’ll let them know.”

 

Erwin hums to himself and returns to his papers.

 

“Erwin,” Hanji frowns, “Are you going to say anything?”

 

“If you want to bring them lunch, I think it’s a good idea,” He says lightly. “It shows professionalism and courtesy in equal measures.”

 

“…but?”

 

“But I have too many loose ends to tie up before the deadline at the end of the week, so I will not be joining you.”

 

Petra sighs as Hanji snorts, “You’re going to have to interact with them at some point. You should be on pleasant terms when you do.”

 

“I can be pleasant to strangers,” Erwin says pointedly. “Bring them lunch if you want. Invite them drinking if you want. I simply ask that I am not forced along.”

 

“How are you an editor of _shoujo_ manga?” Hanji sighs, “You have _no_ penchant for niceness.”

 

“I can be nice-”

 

“You’re polite, sure,” Hanji nods, “Professional, polite, and cultured. But you aren’t exactly nice.”

 

Petra looks between them, unsure if she should involve herself. Erwin thinks the uncertainty is clue enough that she agrees with her fellow editor.

 

“Well,” Erwin starts slowly, “I suppose I can be a nice boss, or a boss that gets things done. Niceness doesn’t sign my paycheck.”

 

Hanji whistles lowly, grinning, “We’ve offended sir Erwin.”

 

Petra sighs, shaking her head, “This isn’t appropriate to talk about at work.”

 

“You’re right!” Hanji holds up a hand, “Let’s go drinking, tonight!”

 

Erwin furrows his eyebrows, “I’m drinking with Mike tomorrow-”

 

“You’re a big guy,” Hanji slaps his shoulder, “You can drink twice in a week.”

 

Erwin gives a long-suffering sigh, “You aren’t asking me.”

 

Hanji grins, “Not at all.”

 

-

 

Hanji is right about one thing. Erwin is a big man. It takes an awful lot of alcohol to get him tipsy, and another few hours of rounds to get him truly drunk.

 

Somehow, Hanji manages it.

 

Erwin remembers little of his night when he wakes up alone in an unfamiliar apartment. He remembers a tad bit more while searching for his clothes - sitting alone at the bar as Hanji and Petra played some sort of drinking game at a table full of men and women eager to buy them drinks, starting up conversation with the man sitting next to him, getting in a cab with said man, and…

 

Well, he woke up naked, didn’t he?

 

Erwin is already running over two hours late, but he’s not going to show up to work smelling like sweat, alcohol, and sex, so he makes a pit-stop at his own home via cab to take a shower and change clothes.

 

By the time he _does_ make it to the office, Hanji and Petra are on lunch break – probably on the printing floor – and Erwin is thankful for the silence. He can only imagine the questions they’re going to ask him once they return.

 

Erwin sighs, tilting his chair back and letting his eyes close. He goes through the events of the previous night again, trying to recall a name or a face. He remembers…them being very good at what they did, and he knows there was no discussion of money so he didn’t sleep with a prostitute. He has the vague image of a sharp spine and ink crawling along a smooth back and a lone tattoo on an abdomen.

 

Male, though that thought probably should have come earlier.

 

A _rough_ male, if the bite marks around his own shoulders are anything to judge by.

 

Erwin can’t remember anything else, but he does know one thing. The next time Hanji asks him out for drinks, he’s going to say _no_.

 

-

 

It’s almost two weeks later when the new printing division alerts them of a problem again. Hanji is out of town, making a house call to an artist who seemed to be going through a bit of a slump (though, screaming and crying over the phone sounds less like a slump and more like a frantic breakdown to Erwin). Petra is out with a cold, or the flu, or _something equally contagious and she cannot come to work goodbye_. Erwin is fairly certain she’s still mourning the decision one of her artists made to kill off the villain – incidentally, Petra’s favorite character.

 

So; when Division L leaves a message on Erwin’s phone while he’s getting coffee on his break, he’s the only one who can deal with it.

 

He _does_ take his coffee with him, if only because he’ll have something to do with his hands and the warmth is nice against his palm.

 

He stops in to see Mike when he arrives on the floor – to cancel their plans for the night on the grounds that he’s still slightly hungover and it’s past noon. He wastes a few minutes talking about sales and revenues and various aspects of business that he isn’t involved with anymore – at least, not with Mike’s division – before he finds the large room where Division L is housed.

 

He’s surprised, to say the least, at how clean everything is. Most of the printing divisions keep their work areas as messy as the editors; papers strewn everywhere, whiteboards marked to hell in red and black writing, at least one person lying on the ground regretting their decision to work for Titan Press…

 

This room is very… _different_. Nothing is scattered on the floor. The cubicles that the divisions have the option of using are actually set up, separating the different employee stations from one another. From his advantageous height, Erwin can see at least three of the stations are empty – lunch break perhaps, or some other reason. Only the one in the far corner, the largest of them, is occupied.

 

Erwin moves forward, waiting to clear his throat and speak until he’s standing in the open entrance to the miniature office, “Pardon the intrusion. There was a problem with something?”

 

For a moment, the man (the very _small_ man, if where the back of the chair rests on him is anything to judge by) ignores him, continuing to type until the silence broaches uncomfortable. He stops suddenly, pushing out from his desk and turning his chair so he faces Erwin with a deep scowl.

 

Which quickly turns into a…well, still a _scowl_ , but a _surprised_ scowl.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He narrows his eyes, “Did you follow me?”

 

Erwin parts his lips, reply falling short. While the man doesn’t exactly _look_ familiar, his _voice_ sounds familiar. “I-. Excuse me, _what_?”

 

The man’s eyes narrow further, and he leans back in his chair. “…you’re Erwin Smith, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Erwin frowns.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” He says. “Fuck, you’re joking.”

 

Erwin isn’t sure why it’s the language that does it, but he’s hit with the overwhelming sense of familiarity and clarity a moment too late, “ _Oh_.”

 

“So _now_ you remember, you fucking _giant_?”

 

Erwin is startled by the vulgarity, especially considering they’re in a professional setting. He glances at the nameplate attached to the cubical wall, “Listen, Levi-”

 

“Gave me a fucking concussion in the cab, you _behemoth_ -”

 

“Oh. I’m, ah, sorry about that-”

 

“-ruined my sheets-”

 

“To be fair, you had a hand in that too.”

 

Levi spoke over him, “-didn’t use a fucking condom. You better be clean, asshole-”

 

“I didn’t? I _am_ , but-”

 

“-left a fucking _hickey_ -”

 

“You bit me!”

 

Levi doesn’t appear amused, “You told me to.”

 

“I-” Erwin pauses. Alright, he’ll concede to _that_ , at least. “What exactly do you propose we do about… _this_?”

 

Levi lifts an eyebrow, “What? You can’t be professional with someone you’ve stuck it in?”

 

“Were you this crass last time?”

 

“Last time, you liked that I was crass,” Levi returns easily. “Now; are you here to talk about fucking me, or are you here to hear about what you fucked up in your drafts?”

 

Erwin blinks, admittedly astounded by Levi’s entire… _everything_. “The…drafts, I suppose.”

 

Levi snorts, propping his ankles up on the side of his desk, “Damn right, you are.”


End file.
